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Without waiting for William to retort, Sebastian turned on his heel and stepped closer to the stairs to greet his niece.
As soon as her feet touched the floor of the ballroom, a swarm of gentlemen surrounded Victoria, asking for introductions, to fetch her a cup of ratafia, or to squeeze their names onto her fan for a dance.
No, marrying off Victoria would not be an issue at all.
As Victoria made her way to the middle of the dancefloor with her first partner, the flock of gentlemen around Sebastian dispersed and, in turn, a group of young women with their eager mamas took their place.
This wasn’t the first ball Sebastian had attended, and he was already used to all the attention, but today was different somehow. Perhaps introducing his niece into society made him more respectable in some people’s eyes. The fact that she was a princess, a duke’s daughter, even if a foreign one, perhaps spurred people’s interest. Either way, the crowd was even more suffocating than usual.
Sebastian fiddled with his cravat, hoping for more air, as he watched Victoria dance with her suitor and tried to ignore the women surrounding him in as polite a manner as possible.
Lucky for him, Frau Elinor, his aunt, made her way toward him and engaged the guests in a conversation, leaving him free to spy on his dancing niece.
Victoria had already been adept at dancing when she arrived in England. She spoke several languages and was quite well-read. But the English aristocracy had its own rules. And while Sebastian was excused for committingfaux pasfrom time to time, society looked with a much harsher eye upon a lady. And Sebastian didn’t want anything to stunt Victoria’s progress.
As such, Victoria, who was already past the age of coming out, had to spend a few weeks with the Duchess of Kensington before her first foray into society and learn English versions of dances and polite manners. This was also the reason Sebastian anxiously watched his niece, fearing a slight misstep would ruin her chances of an advantageous marriage.
But his fears disappeared as he saw her glowing on the dancefloor. She was confident, and she was enjoying herself.
The Duchess of Kensington had done well.
“Look at all these beautiful ladies,” Frau Elinor said by his side. “I know you are worried about Vicky, but she is incomparable. She will not have trouble finding the right suitor. You, on the other hand, need to start improving your behavior.”
Sebastian raised a brow. “Do I?”
“You just rudely dismissed a few very agreeable young ladies by ignoring them and their mothers. You must have an interest in at least one of them. If we are to stay in England—”
“But we are not to stay in England, Frau Elinor,” he said firmly.
She threw him a sidelong glance. “I am too old to travel anywhere.”
“You traveled here well enough.”
“Not well enough,” she enunciated clearly. “Do you not remember how tired I was? You might still remember me as a young, energetic woman who took care of your household back in France, but I am getting old, Bastian, dear. And feeble.”
Sebastian scoffed. “You might be adding in age, my dear aunt, but you are anything but feeble.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Bastian. Besides, you will not leave Vicky all alone, will you?”
Sebastian threw a glance toward his glowing niece. She was enjoying all the frivolities of the ball; it seemed. Or else she was extremely hot and needed a breath of fresh air.
The thought of leaving Victoria behind didn’t cause him joy. He had been looking after her since she was in leading strings—or at least it seemed that long—and he was not about to let any harm come to her. But he wanted what was best for her. And best for her meant to keep her as far away from her relatives on her mother’s side as he could.
Perhaps, the best course of action would indeed be to wed her to some titled, wealthy man, who would worship the ground she walked upon. And by the looks in English gentlemen’s eyes, it wouldn’t be difficult to find that person here.
Sebastian threw a dark glance toward an old, stocky lord who watched Victoria with a lecherous gaze.
“Excuse me, Frau Elinor.” He made two steps toward the offending gentleman and discreetly, but painfully, jabbed him with an elbow.
The man blinked up at him, looking confused.
“I think you dropped something,” Sebastian said darkly.
The man looked around. “I don’t think—”
“Your manners, perhaps. For I do not think it is entirely polite to ogle a young lady the way you are doing.”
A lady, who was probably his wife—though she could have been his daughter—gasped by his side. Sebastian returned to his aunt’s side and continued to scan the crowd.
